


And Three Make a Whole

by MeganMoonlight



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blackwall (Dragon Age) Spoilers, Canon-Typical Violence, Crestwood (Dragon Age), Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Multi, Not Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC Compliant, Nudity, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss, Revelations Spoilers, Sleeping Together, Spoilers, The Western Approach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganMoonlight/pseuds/MeganMoonlight
Summary: Mahanon Lavellan loved Blackwall and Dorian equally. He just wished they cared about one another as much as they cared about him.The development of Dorian and Blackwall's relationship through Lavellan's eyes.
Relationships: Blackwall/Dorian Pavus, Blackwall/Inquisitor, Blackwall/Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Blackwall/Lavellan, Blackwall/Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Blackwall/Male Inquisitor, Blackwall/Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Blackwall/Male Lavellan, Blackwall/Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 14
Kudos: 25
Collections: Rare Dragon Age Queer Ships





	And Three Make a Whole

**1.**

As soon as Mahanon Lavellan left Josephine’s office, after they had finished discussing what to do about a few powerful Orlesian nobles that had been spreading rumors about him and the Breach, his mind right away drifted to what he had been thinking about for the last few weeks: the situation concerning two certain members of the Inquisitor’s Inner Circle.

Dorian Pavus was quick-witted and he always seemed to know what he wanted. Mahanon found his dry sense of humour as attractive as his confidence. It was easy to talk to him, and whenever Dorian was nearby, it was almost impossible to pay attention to anything other than the gorgeous Tevinter mage. He was bright and warm, and he always knew what to do to distract Mahanon from his worries when the elf really needed it, and sometimes even when he didn’t need it at all.

Blackwall, on the other hand, in some aspects seemed to be Dorian’s polar opposite. He was quiet, careful, and he usually tried to keep to himself, except on a battlefield, where he was always ready to protect the others. Even if he wasn’t Mahanon’s usual type, anytime the warrior was by his side, the elf felt safe and calm, and he found it very appealing, especially when Blackwall looked at him like he was something… precious, almost. Even when they were just sitting side by side quietly, it was comforting to be around him. 

Mahanon still couldn’t quite believe that they were both by his side, and both had agreed to be in a relationship with him.

Ever since Mahanon had explained how he felt about them both and all three of them had talked things through, which was about a month ago, Dorian had been quite competitive, which had often made Blackwall unsure of his place in their arrangement. It had also made reassuring them that he cared about them both equally difficult at times. Mahanon was sure of his feelings for both men, which was why he also wanted them to get along, because seeing them snap at one another so often hurt.

Lately, however, Mahanon noticed something between Blackwall and Dorian… change. It was subtle, but it was definitely there.

When he asked them both, as well as Sera, to accompany him to Crestwood, at first things were quite tense. They bickered almost all the time, and Blackwall rolled his eyes at Dorian a lot, but when it came to fighting bandits and undead, they worked together well. 

Why couldn’t they get along just as well when they were not on a battlefield?

“Inquisitor, as much as I love long walks in the moonlight with you by my side, they are not as pleasant when my clothing is all wet,” Dorian stated, looking down at his coat with clear distaste. Groaning quietly, he adjusted the strap of the bag he was carrying, and it was pretty obvious he wished he was anywhere else right then, most likely somewhere warm and dry.

“Come on, Dorian, you don’t find this even a little bit romantic?” Mahanon grinned at the other mage, who just snorted quietly.

“I have a feeling your idea of romantic activities greatly differs from mine.”

“I’ll work on romancing you properly later, then.”

“It’s not so bad here,” Blackwall said, interrupting them. He walked up to Dorian and grabbed the bag the mage was trying to secure, before strapping it next to his own.

Mahanon caught Dorian watching Blackwall silently for a while, before something akin to a smile appeared on his face.

“Well, not all of us are accustomed to the charming Ferelden weather, Warden Blackwall.”

“Don’t worry, it should stop raining soon. We can warm up then,” Blackwall told the other mage, and when Mahanon raised one eyebrow at him, the warrior looked down at the ground immediately, clearly flustered. And wasn’t _that_ an appealing image, the elf thought to himself.

“Soon, hopefully,” Dorian muttered, and just when Mahanon was about to reassure him that they should be able to find a suitable place for a camp soon, they heard Sera yell:

“Hey! I found a cave!”

“Ah, lovely.”

“And it doesn’t even stink!” Sera grinned, making Mahanon laugh out loud.

“Great. We’ll stay here tonight, then. If everything goes well, we’ll still reach Caer Bronach tomorrow, just as we planned, so we might as well take a break now,” Mahanon said, dropping everything he was carrying to the ground.

Once they set everything up, Sera fell asleep almost right away, muttering something about bees and Cullen’s coat. It sounded amusing, and Mahanon couldn’t wait to see how would that end.

Blackwall offered to keep watch first to let the others get some sleep, so Mahanon seized the opportunity and snuggled close to Dorian as soon as he laid down. When the other mage wrapped his arm snugly around Mahanon and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, the elf closed his eyes and sighed, content.

When he woke up later, shivering and slightly disoriented, he looked around the cave and quickly realized what must have roused him from sleep.

“Go back to sleep, I’ll be fine,” he heard Blackwall mutter, and Dorian huffed at that.

“Are all Wardens this stubborn?”

Mahanon didn’t even have to see him to know that the warrior was most likely trying to avoid looking at Dorian right then. “I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn.”

“Fine,” Dorian muttered, and as he laid down and wrapped one arm around Mahanon, the mage heard him mumble something about ‘stubborn Wardens’, before he closed his eyes again.

Sometime later Mahanon was woken up once more, but this time he felt something warm being wrapped around him, and most likely around Dorian as well, and then warm, callused fingers brushed against his cheek.

“You two deserve rest more than I do,” Mahanon heard Blackwall murmur, but before he could react and tell the other man that it was not true at all, he fell black asleep, surrounded by comforting warmth.

**2.**

As much as Mahanon enjoyed how warm the weather in the Western Approach always was, it was a welcome break from travelling around multiple colder locations, he really hated how almost everything there always tried to attack him. Mahanon, as well as the rest of his party, had to stay vigilant at all times whenever they were there, in case the Venatori, the White Claws raiders, Darkspawn, varghests, phoenixes, or hyenas decided to attack.

Even after the Inquisition’s forces managed to defeat the majority of the Venatori agents staying in the area, cleared the caves, and got rid of Darkspawn, the place still wasn’t safe. 

Mahanon and his party were travelling to the Griffon Wing Keep to check on the people staying there, and talk to Knight-Captain Rylen about how they were doing after defeating Crassius Servis and his accomplices. However, halfway before they even reached the route to the fortress, they were attacked by a group of the White Claws raiders who must have somehow escaped the Inquisition patrols. As if that wasn’t enough to deal with, a few seconds later a stray arrow shot by one of the raiders accidentally hit a Gurn that was apparently sleeping nearby, and soon they were fighting not only the mercenaries, but also two vicious Gurns. 

Right away Mahanon created a barrier around Sera, who was shooting the assailants with her explosive arrows, while Dorian tried to slow down Gurns using walls of fire. Fortunately, the spells managed to divert their attention from Blackwall, who was fighting three warriors by himself. The disarray gave Mahanon a chance to help Blackwall and blast the White Claws with a few lightning bolts, rendering one unconscious.

Between Dorian’s fire spells and Mahanon’s storm abilities it was easy to get rid of agitated animals, but with such a large number of enemies attacking them, Mahanon completely failed to notice Raider Footpads that jumped out of nowhere to attack them in the meantime. 

Mahanon barely managed to dodge two daggers that were clearly aimed at his back and the side of his neck, and he quickly blinded the rogue that went after him with a simple energy blast. Before he managed to do anything else, however, he heard a short, gut-wrenching scream of pain that made his blood run cold.

His lover was kneeling on the ground, face contorted with pain and clearly trying to stay upright, yet he was still casting spells to incapacitate the remaining Raiders.

“Dorian!” Mahanon screamed, using Energy Barrage to weaken the Gurn that was charging at the other mage, before he saw Sera running towards the animal.

“Eat that!” Sera shouted, shooting at the Gurn, and seeing that Sera had everything under control for now helped Mahanon to pull himself together, even if only for a while. As he used Chain Lightning on the last White Claw Raiders, with the corner of his eye he saw Blackwall turn his head to glance at Dorian briefly, before killing the last Gurn. 

“You better not be dead, mage!” Blackwall yelled, and while he and Sera made sure all their enemies were dead, Mahanon ran up to Dorian as quickly as he could, almost tripping over dead bodies on the way. Kneeling next to his lover right away, the elf dropped his staff in order to cup Dorian’s face in his hands gently.

“Dorian! Dorian, are you okay? Say something. Please, say something…” Mahanon mumbled, looking at the other mage anxiously. When Dorian didn’t even twitch, Mahanon cursed quietly, feeling his heart hammering in his chest.

Keeping one hand on Dorian’s cheek, with the other he touched the man’s bloodied shoulder and then moved to his stomach to check the extent of injuries Dorian sustained. There was so much blood…

“I don’t… I don’t have any more healing potions with me. I’d used the last one before we came here. I forgot to restock when we were at the camp,” Mahanon was babbling, his voice breaking, as he looked up at Blackwall, who knelt down right next to him. “He’s bleeding too much, I can’t stop it!”

“Hold this,” the warrior murmured, handing Mahanon his sword, before he took out a spare shirt from his bag and started ripping it into pieces. As he tended to Dorian’s wounds, Mahanon saw his hands shaking slightly, and his eyes glancing worriedly between Dorian’s face and his shoulder. 

“Does it look bad?” Mahanon asked after a while, squeezing Blackwall’s shoulder and hoping that the closeness would calm him down at least a little bit.

“No. We just have to dress the wounds properly.”

Once he was done, Blackwall touched Dorian’s forehead with the back of his hand, and soon he was picking the unconscious mage up, cradling him in his arms carefully. “Come on, we’re not too far away from the Keep. I’ll carry him.”

Mahanon nodded quickly, before turning his head to look at the rogue standing nearby. “Sera, could you go first and make sure the way to the Keep is clear? I can’t…”

“Sure. Just keep him alive, yeah?” 

Sera ran forward, leaving Blackwall and Mahanon with Dorian, and together they started walking towards the Griffon Wing Keep as fast as they could. Blackwall kept making sure not to put too much pressure on Dorian’s wounds, and not to jostle him too much as he walked, while Mahanon hoped no one else would attack them on the way. He managed to attach a sword to Blackwall’s shield, but he was still carrying Dorian’s staff. While fighting with two staves wasn’t as difficult as it could have been, Mahanon was not a fan of it. 

“Hold on, Dorian,” Mahanon muttered, glancing at his unconscious lover. “You’re going to be okay.”

“He’ll be fine,” Blackwall said, breathing through his mouth, and Mahanon saw him tighten his hold on the other mage even more. “He’s strong. And stubborn.”

In the evening, once Dorian’s wounds were healed and Mahanon requested more healing and mana potions for their journey back to Skyhold, the elf went straight to the room in which he usually stayed whenever they visited the Keep.

As Mahanon opened the door, he found Blackwall sitting by Dorian’s bedside, watching him sleep. The sound of someone entering the room clearly startled the warrior, and when his eyes met Mahanon’s, a slight blush appeared high on his cheeks.

The elf let himself smile at the sight.

He walked up to Blackwall and kissed him on the forehead, and only then did he feel the other man’s arms wrapping around his middle protectively.

“He’s going to be fine,” Mahanon whispered, pressing his lips to the top of Blackwall’s head to reassure them both.

**3.**

When Mahanon and his party came back to Skyhold, he still couldn’t quite believe that they were alive.

They survived. They had been physically trapped in the Fade, but they had escaped and survived. Just thinking about it made his head spin. It was... indescribable.

Moreover, he still couldn’t wrap his head around everything he had learned about in the Fade. What had really happened at the Conclave, the Divine’s death, the false Calling the Grey Wardens had been experiencing… all of it was too much to handle. How would people react once they learn what he had seen? He had no idea.

Even though they survived, Mahanon couldn’t help feeling guilty. Blackwall, Cassandra, Cole, and Hawke could have died because of him. He shouldn’t have asked Cole to go with him in the first place. Remembering how difficult the whole experience had been for the rogue almost broke Mahanon’s heart. 

There was also Stroud. They hadn’t known each other for long, but Mahanon would never forget that they were alive only because Stroud sacrificed his life to help them escape. He also knew how much losing a friend must have hurt Hawke. Mahanon saw the pain in the man’s eyes after they had managed to escape from the Fade, but while it was heartbreaking, he was a little bit relieved that he would not see the same expression on Varric’s face later. The elf was sure that Varric would be just as relieved to hear that Hawke was fine, at least physically.

Only when he felt Blackwall’s hand squeezing his shoulder, Mahanon realized that they were standing in the barn. He had no idea how long he was standing there for, or how did he even end up there in the first place, but he didn’t care. Wrapping his arms tightly around Blackwall, Mahanon pressed his face against the other man’s neck, breathing him in, while Blackwall ran his hands up and down the mage’s back and one arm, trying to calm him down.

“It’s fine. We’re fine,” Blackwall kept muttering against the side of Mahanon’s head, reassuring him time and time again, and with every word Mahanon kept tightening his hold on his lover. What would he do if he had lost Blackwall in there? No, he should not think about it.

“I’m sorry,” the elf said quietly, hearing his own voice break at the last syllable, never letting go of the warrior in his arms. “I’m so sorry for putting you in danger. If I had known…”

“Don’t,” Blackwall interrupted him right away. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad I was there to have your back. There's nowhere I'd rather be than right here, by your side.”

As silence fell over the barn, the two men stood there, embracing, taking strength and comfort from each other’s presence.

“You should lie down and try to rest,” Blackwall suggested after a while. “Calm down a little bit.”

“No. I still have to talk to Varric, Leliana, and everyone else,” Mahanon answered, even though he didn’t feel like moving from his spot at all. “They need to know what had happened, and I still have to check up on Cole. He had been so terrified, even after we had left. It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t think like that.”

“I should have never asked him to go with me…”

“Try not to think about this anymore. We’re all fine.”

“You’re okay, then,” came from somewhere behind him, and when Mahanon turned his head, he saw Dorian walking up to them. Soon, the other mage was touching Mahanon’s face gently, clearly agitated.

“I really hope you are not planning on doing something like that ever again,” Dorian said, and then his arms were enveloping Mahanon, his fingers tangling in the elf’s blond hair. “Well, at least our resident Warden was there to keep you safe.”

The way Dorian and Blackwall looked at one other right then, both still clearly emotional, made Mahanon’s heart skip a beat. 

With Dorian’s warm arms around him, and Blackwall’s steady hand on his back, Mahanon felt so, so much better. He finally let himself calm down. He was still incredibly nervous about talking to everyone about what he had learned in the Fade, but knowing that his lovers were by his side helped immensely.

A few hours later, after he managed to talk to his advisors, as well as Varric and Solas, about what had happened at the Adamant Fortress, and after making sure that people who had been there with him were all right, Mahanon was exhausted. The whole experience had been almost twice as draining as facing dragons in Crestwood and in the Western Approach. Well, it felt like it, at least.

When Mahanon finally entered his rooms, he found Dorian lying comfortably on the bed, looking warm and very appealing. As soon as the elf approached him, the man caught his hand and tugged gently, pulling Mahanon on the bed, so that Mahanon was lying almost on top of him. 

The elf didn’t resist, just snuggled close to Dorian and pillowed his head on the other mage’s chest, as he listened to his steady heartbeat. Finally feeling himself relax, Mahanon exhaled slowly. There was a lot to do, so much to plan, and he was sure the next day would be hectic for everyone, but he tried not to think about that just yet. 

Taking a break sounded very good right then…

Sometime later Mahanon heard someone walk up to the bed, but he was too tired to raise his head to see who it was. The visitor must have put something on the bedside table, too, but exhaustion was stronger than curiosity, and Mahanon decided not to move from his spot on the bed.

“He should eat something when he wakes up,” Blackwall said, and Mahanon smiled at the gentle tone of the man’s voice.

Dorian whispered something back, but Mahanon wasn’t paying attention anymore. Soon, he felt the bed dip behind him and when a warm, strong arm was wrapped around his waist, Mahanon fell back asleep, surrounded by his lovers’ warmth.

**4.**

Mahanon was sitting on his bed, looking at the wall, confused. Well, no, not confused. More like, lost. He had no idea what to think about what had happened in the last few days.

Blackwall… No, he wasn’t Blackwall. He never had been. He was Thom Rainier. 

And that was the case, wasn’t it?

So many thoughts had been running through Mahanon’s head since after Thom’s judgment, when Thom had finally told him and Dorian about himself, about his history, and everything he had been hiding all this time.

The warrior’s eyes had never left the ground as he patiently answered all their questions, and there had been so much pain, rejection, and helplessness visible on his face that Mahanon had had to force himself to not get up to embrace him.

Dorian had been sitting mostly quiet, just watching the other man, but the expression on his face had been difficult to read right then. Had he felt as lost as Mahanon had?

Mahanon had asked Thom to give them time to think about everything, and the warrior had just nodded, not even once trying to stop Mahanon and Dorian from leaving the barn.

Three days had passed since then.

Mahanon rather quickly realized how difficult sleeping was when Blackwall, Thom, was not by his side. The warrior’s arms around him, as well as seeing his face right after waking up, became such integral parts of his day that waking up without the other man there felt weird.

More importantly, as difficult as the whole situation had been for all of them, Mahanon’s feelings for Thom hadn’t changed, not one bit, and Mahanon knew that Thom still cared about him, as well as about Dorian.

He really needed to talk to Dorian.

When the elf found his lover in the library a few minutes later, the man was reading something, and he seemed to be as tired as Mahanon was.

“How do you feel?” Mahanon stepped closer to Dorian, reaching out to gently squeeze the mage’s bare shoulder.

“Better than you look, I believe,” Dorian answered, closing the book without marking the page where he left off, and put it on the shelf next to him. 

The library was mostly empty, and those who were there seemed to be busy anyway, so Mahanon sat in Dorian’s lap, his legs swinging over the armrest, leaning his head against the other man’s.

“I hate it,” Mahanon murmured, so that only his lover could hear him, and Dorian exhaled slowly. “He lied, yes, and what he had done was awful, but… he helped us. He keeps helping us, trying to make up for it. Why did he feel like he couldn’t trust me? Trust us?”

“Everyone fights their own battles, Amatus,” Dorian told him. “He was hiding what he had done for a long time. Talking about that to someone he… cares about must have been difficult.”

Mahanon sighed, closing his eyes. “Thom Rainier. It’ll be difficult to get used to that.”

Dorian didn’t say anything to that, but he did press his lips to the elf’s shoulder in a gentle caress.

“I miss him,” Mahanon whispered against Dorian’s hair. “I tried to talk to him, but it’s like he’s avoiding me. He won’t even look at me.”

Dorian squeezed his knee. “Maybe he needs time, too.”

The elf didn’t get a chance to respond, because that was the moment when one of Leliana’s scouts ran up to him and told him that the Spymaster was waiting for him in the garden. Well, talking further would have to wait.

Since the meeting with Leliana took him far longer than he initially assumed, when Mahanon finally had a chance to go and talk to Thom again, it was already dark outside. 

Fortunately, it looked like Thom was not asleep just yet, judging by the faint light coming from the inside of the barn. Good. Mahanon really needed to talk to him.

When he was about to enter the building, though, he heard a familiar voice speaking up, which stopped him in his tracks.

“Talking to him wouldn’t hurt, would it?” Mahanon frowned at the seriousness of Dorian’s tone. 

“I never meant to hurt him,” Thom said after a while, clearly tired. “Nor you. You both deserve so much better, so why does he…”

“Because, if you haven’t noticed yet, Mahanon is terribly fond of you,” Dorian told him. “Tell me, are all the Wardens this obstinate?”

That was when Mahanon noticed Thom watching the other man uncertainly, as if assessing his words. As Dorian stepped closer to the warrior and placed both hands on his shoulders, Thom tensed visibly.

“Dorian…”

“Mahanon misses you.”

Thom exhaled, exhausted, and leaned back in his chair as he closed his eyes. Soon, one of the mage’s hands traveled up Thom’s neck and tangled in his thick hair.

“Why do you still want me? I’m just a…”

“Don’t. You do know that our dear Inquisitor is an all-or-nothing kind of man, correct? Well, then you should also know by now that he doesn’t fall out of love easily,” Dorian stated, which made Mahanon blush. It was true, though, wasn’t it? “As for me, well, you could say that your company might have grew on me. Even if you do spend far too much time at the stables.”

One corner of Thom’s lips rose slightly at that, and it was a first smile Mahanon saw on his face in a long while.

That was the moment when the elf decided to leave his hiding place. He couldn’t just sit there and watch, when all he wanted to do was to wrap his arms around Thom and Dorian, and hold them close.

“I love you,” Mahanon said quietly as he walked towards his lovers, making both men turn their heads to look at him. “Both of you. So much.”

Thom looked down at the ground instantly, hiding his face from Mahanon’s view, so the elf knelt down next to him. Would Thom let him reach for his hand?

“Come back with us,” Mahanon put his hand on Thom’s knee. “Please.”

Dorian, in turn, ran one index finger down Thom’s face teasingly. “Unless you prefer to play hard to get, of course.” 

A blush appeared high on Thom’s cheeks as soon as the words left Dorian’s mouth, and Mahanon licked his lips, suddenly feeling nervous. “I mean, if you truly do not want to, we would never force you, but I miss you. I miss you so much.”

“I want to,” Thom admitted, and only then did he look Mahanon in the eyes. “I really do, but you deserve so much better than… this.”

“That’s not true at all,” Mahanon whispered, before letting his fingers wrap around Thom’s. “I’m not going to lie, when I learned that you’ve been lying to us, it hurt. A lot. But we’ve been through so much together, and I, I love you. We all make mistakes. Constantly. I won’t give up on you just because you made a few mistakes, too. You and Dorian are everything I need, okay?”

When Thom’s hand gently squeezed his, Mahanon knew that all three of them would be alright.

**5.**

“Care to dance, Amatus?”

Mahanon opened his eyes to see Dorian standing before him, one hand outstretched, a sly smile adorning his face. Oh, Maker. The other mage knew perfectly well what this particular smile did to Mahanon. However, as much as the elf enjoyed dancing with his lover, his feet were currently killing him.

It felt like all he did for the last three hours was talking to all the nobles that came to Skyhold to congratulate them on their successes, and not much else. All balls organized by Josephine usually ended with him listening to people talk, but while Mahanon usually didn’t mind playing nice with the guests, right then he was exhausted, and barely standing upwards. He hadn’t slept long after coming back from the Hissing Wastes, so now that he finally had a chance to sit down, he took it right away. Fortunately, Josephine, Leliana, Cassandra, and Cullen noticed the state Mahanon was in, and offered to keep people away from him for a while. 

Mahanon ended up sitting in the corner of the Throne Room, enjoying a big piece of delicious cake that had been prepared from chocolate Baron Edouard Desjardins had sent them a few days earlier. The cooks definitely outdid themselves this time. Mahanon would have to thank Baron Desjardins for his generosity as well, and possibly ask him where he had gotten the chocolate. It was amazing.

It was pleasant to watch people dance, talk, and have fun. Apparently that was what everyone needed after such difficult few months. All of them could finally relax. Dorian seemed to enjoy himself as well. 

While Thom had been quietly listening to Sera’s outrageous stories, Dorian had been animatedly talking to Varric and a few guards, smiling brightly the whole time. Sometime earlier he had been dancing with Josephine, then with Lace, and with Bonny Sims. He looked gorgeous. 

Of course he would ask Mahanon to dance with him next. 

Any other time, Mahanon would be happy to, he wouldn’t even have to think twice about it. Dancing with Dorian always delighted him. This time, however, he doubted he would be able to stand upright, much less keep up with the other man.

“I really wish I could, but I fear you’d end up having to carry me around to the rhythm of the music. I feel like I’m going to collapse if I stand up now,” Mahanon said apologetically, running one hand through his hair.

“Well, it doesn’t sound like a particularly difficult task, Amatus.”

Mahanon snorted at the quip about his height, then caught Dorian’s right hand in his and kissed the palm gently, his thumb caressing the soft skin. “I really am sorry. You know I love dancing with you.”

“Of course I do,” Dorian squeezed Mahanon’s hand. “We can always dance later, in private, after all.”

“All you want,” Mahanon agreed, pressing his face to Dorian’s belly as soon as the man stepped closer to him. He smelled nice. Fruity and sweet. The elf knew he should stay until the end of the ball, and he would, but he was very tempted to just take Dorian and Thom back to his quarters and not leave for a week, at least, expect maybe to eat something. “Just a few more hours and then we can leave.”

“Indeed. But now, let me find our favourite Warden… ah! Here he comes.”

Mahanon turned his head to see Thom walking towards them, holding a plate of fruits and a tankard.

“I thought you might want a break from the cake,” Thom said, setting the food in front of the elf, before wiping his hands on his trousers. 

Judging by all the fidgeting, the man must have felt uncomfortable in the new clothes Jospehine and Dorian made him wear, but Mahanon had to admit, black trousers fit him well, and a dark green jacket accentuated his chest and arms very nicely. Clearly, Dorian thought so, too, because as soon as the warrior put down the plate full of fruits, the mage patted him on the chest.

“Would you like to dance? Since our dear Inquisitor chose to spend the evening in the company of sweets, you’ll have to take his place,” the mage stated, and to anyone else he probably sounded like his usual confident self, but Mahanon knew better. Dorian was nervous. Did he expect Thom to outright refuse? The other mage never admitted it out loud, but Mahanon knew that the man was still unsure of Thom’s feelings toward him.

Thom, in turn, just licked his lips, and scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“Sure. It’s been a while since I last danced, though,” the warrior warned, and Dorian just smirked at him. “You can’t blame me if I accidentally end up stepping on your delicate toes.”

“Don’t worry,” Dorian reassured him, a smile never disappearing from his face. “I am an excellent dancer, so I’ll keep you from stumbling. Just follow my lead.”

The corners of Thom’s lips twitched as Dorian led him away from the table, gracefully manoeuvring between the other guests. They didn’t go far, fortunately. In the end they still stayed close to the place where Mahanon was sitting, so he was free to watch them dance.

One of Thom’s hands was holding Dorian’s close against his chest, while the other one was resting on Dorian’s hip. The mage’s free hand was laying comfortably on Thom’s shoulder, and while they were standing close, there was still a bit of respectful distance between them. Considering the occasional stumbling on Thom’s part, and Dorian’s teasing smiles, it looked like the mage was definitely leading.

They were beautiful together.

Apparently, Mahanon was not the only one who thought so, judging by the number of stares following the two. Some people were most likely curious, since many still wondered about the nature of the relationship between the Inquisitor, Thom, and Dorian, but quite a few attendees seemed to simply admire the pair.

As they kept swaying, Thom whispered something that clearly amused Dorian, and Mahanon found himself smiling at the sight of his two lovers enjoying each others’ company.

**+1**

Mahanon heard someone whispering somewhere near him, so he did the only logical thing he could think of at the moment: he groaned and hid his face in the nearest pillow. Hm, it smelled of Thom. Nice.

His muscles ached pleasantly, and right away he recalled everything that had happened the night before. Every night he spent with Thom and Dorian was amazing, but yesterday? It was… indescribable.

Feeling a blush spread across his face, Mahanon finally opened his eyes, and what he saw made his already red face feel even warmer. 

Dorian was sitting on Thom’s lap, and they were kissing slowly, clearly lost in one another. One of Dorian’s hands was tangled in the warrior’s hair, while the other massaged Thom’s shoulder and bicep. Thom’s hands were on Dorian’s hips, his thumbs caressing the bare skin gently as he kissed the mage back, and Mahanon bit his lips to keep himself from moaning at the sight. 

“I see you decided to start without me,” Mahanon said, grinning, and only then did Dorian open his eyes to look at him. Instead of answering, the other mage just winked at him as he continued kissing Thom, who groaned when the mage suddenly tugged at his beard. “Not that I’m complaining about the view, of course.” 

Dorian smiled against Thom’s lips before breaking the kiss, making the other man groan again. Just as the mage turned his head to look at Mahanon, Thom leaned his head against Dorian’s. Clearly, he did not want to stop kissing the other mage, which Mahanon understood completely.

“Well, when I tried to wake _you_ up, you just grumbled something that sounded like ‘five more minutes’,” Dorian answered. He smiled at Thom, who was still nuzzling his neck, then turned his attention back to Mahanon. “I decided to be considerate and let you sleep some more.”

“So, you woke up _me_ instead?” Thom asked, one eyebrow raised, his hands still resting comfortably on Dorian’s hips. “Really?”

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“I see. That was indeed very considerate of you, Dorian. Thank you,” Mahanon smiled as he sat up, stretching his arms briefly. “You wore me out yesterday. It has been some time since I slept this well.”

“Hm, it was a pretty good night, wasn’t it?” Dorian grinned, and Mahanon saw Thom’s cheeks redden as he hid his face against Dorian’s neck again. 

Mahanon wondered if his own face was still equally red. It fascinated him how those two could make him blush like this so easily, even after all this time. “It definitely was. Do you know what would make this morning just as good, though? Food.” 

“Funny you should say that,” Dorian got up from the bed, unabashedly confident in his nudity, and walked up to a small table. “As it turns out, our dear Warden woke up disgustingly early to bring us breakfast, which you can find right here. We also have a bottle of West Hill Brandy to share.”

“I got two bottles for you before we had left Val Royaux,” Thom told them, and Mahanon smiled at that. He snuggled closer to his lover, and when the man wrapped one arm around his shoulders, Mahanon brought their lips together, enjoying the way Thom’s fingers caressed his skin. 

“Thank you,” the elf murmured, before resting his head against the Warden’s shoulder.

When a few seconds later Dorian brought over the food tray, he handed Mahanon a piece of bread with cheese, and kissed him sweetly. Soon, all three of them were munching on bread, meats, and fruits, talking and laughing, and Mahanon couldn’t be happier.

Corypheus was gone. The Breach had been sealed forever. 

Mahanon’s friends were all happy and safe, well, as safe as they could be, and by his side he had two wonderful men, who loved not only him, but also each other. Even if things weren’t always easy for them, he would not change his life for anything in the world.

Mahanon Lavellan was one lucky man.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this fic for a while now, because I ended up loving the idea of Lavellan, Dorian, and Blackwall together. Sadly, there are not many fics about this OT3 around.
> 
> I mostly wrote this for myself, but I hope you'll enjoy it, too :)


End file.
